A SEALed Friendship
by schaefy
Summary: Steph's bored one night on stakeout with Ranger. So, Ranger regails the story of the famous Navy SEAL hat. Based in the jungle somewhere in the world. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

I wrote this quite a while ago (... during class... oops...) and figured I should probably post it.

So here it is: the story of Ranger's Navy SEAL hat.

_Ranger_

Steph jiggled in her seat again. We had been on stake out for a few hours now, and after exactly 2 and half hours, she was getting antsy. Repressing a sigh, I stayed still, unable to reach my zone with her twitching next to me. She picked up a pen from the dashboard.

I could almost hear her brain urging her to click it. The irresistible feeling of depressing that button on the end, as if it would alleviate her boredom.

Click it, her brain said.

No. Ranger will get mad, she retorted.

Click it now. Just once.

No! If I click it once, I'll do it again. And I'm sure a clickey pen gets to even Ranger.

Just click it, said her brain.

She clicked it.

I closed my eyes and she unconsciously clicked the pen again and again.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Cl—

I grabbed the pen deftly out of her hand.

She looked at me guiltily and settled back into her seat.

"Ranger?"

I stayed silent, forcing myself not to smile. I knew what was coming.

"I'm bored." A wolf grin spread over my face as I looked at her. She was so cute when she was bored.

"No kidding Babe." She rolled her eyes and adjusted her seat so she leaned back so far she was almost lying down. Closing her eyes she sighed contentedly.

"Tell me a story Ranger." I snorted. She cracked an eyelid and gave me a one eyed death glare.

"What do you want me to tell you a story about?" I said, amused. I watched as she looked around for inspiration, her eyes settling on my Navy SEAL hat, lying on the dash.

"Tell me the story of your Navy SEAL hat." She said, her eyes alight with curiosity and mischief. I narrowed my eyes.

"That one's a bit of a sad one Babe. Sure you want to hear it?"

"But you'd tell me if I wanted to?"

I nodded. I didn't think it could do any harm.

"Ok, go for it." She said, settling back again.

"Well, once upon a time there were two unicorns..." she hit me on the leg, and I snorted again with laughter.

"Ok, ok, for real this time."

And I dove into the story.

The air was close and humid, the thick green canopy of leaves throwing the ground into semi-darkness. I could feel my sweat soaked shirt sticking to my hot skin, droplets running over my face and neck as I stared through the high-powered binoculars. It had rained for three days continuously, and I had to be careful not to leave any tracks. If I did, the past four months of surveillance, silent ambushes and torturous waiting would be wasted. We had worked too hard to throw it away now.

A faint, tinny voice sounded in my ear bud, an exhausted male voice grating as it spoke.

"Alpha Black, Alpha Black. Code blue, code blue."

An intense wave of relief coursed through my body. Good. We had one of the guards alive. We had been trying for the past two and a half months, and it was the only problem which had been stopping us from finishing this mission and heading home. After a month at Military Headquarters gathering intelligence, weapons and other essentials, two months in cities around the country trying to locate the base and four months of surveillance, the whole team was ready to go home. Yesterday.

I quashed a sigh and tapped the microphone twice, paused, then three times quickly.

Affirmative. I'm heading back to camp.

"Delta black out." Was the reply.

I put the binoculars into the lightweight pack, double checked my handgun had a full clip and silencer. It was easier to use than the AK-47s that were so commonly used by the enemy. We could kill silently, and still maintain our invisibility. No one would know. And that's the way we needed to be.

Slowly, I melted further into the dense, impenetrable undergrowth; commando crawling until I was completely obscured by it.

0 0 0

I arrived back at the drop point four hours later, even though it was only a few miles journey. I had to take my time and stay as close to the ground as possible to lower the risk of discovery. As well as this, the enemy had started laying small land mines around the area, and I had to be careful not to activate any. They were small enough not to kill, but to incapacitate, and alert the enemy. They would catch men alive and torture them for information, and we couldn't afford to lose any more men. We had already lost seven.

I waited in the undergrowth fifty metres from the small dirt road, as a dark green camouflaged Jeep coasted silently down the gently sloping road. Sliding to a stop some twenty metres down the road from me. Quickly, but silently, I slithered through the low scrub as close as I could to the Jeep, and check one last time for any signs of movement. I could see the clouds gathering again, formidable looking grey and purple clouds swirling through the sky as I stared around the surrounding jungle, the humidity climbing even as I watched. The trees that jungle was comprised of were clear of climbers as far as I could see. There were none of the telltale signs of the enemy concealed on the ground either. The trees rustled slightly as a breath of wind played across the leaves, disturbing the ghostly animals lying hidden in there. Something flittered through the corner of my eye, the flash of movement flickering just outside of my line of vision. A carefully measured amount of adrenaline entered my bloodstream, the familiar thrill of energy pulsing through my body as it prepared itself for the fight, or flight. There were no mammals out at this time. The movement had been larger than an animal. Seconds trickled by and turned into minutes, the sweat that soaked my shirt beginning to soak into the filthy, torn fatigues I was wearing. My eyes were fixed to the place where I had seen the movement, trying to make out anything in the semi-darkness. The tingling at the back of my neck told me I was not alone. The Jeeps engine caught, and I saw the faceless driver inside preparing to drive off. I had to get out now, or I would have to walk the forty miles back to base. I was low on water and rations, and every minute the passed was another minute closer to the inevitable moment when they discovered us. We would be dead men. We had to act before they went through with their plans. Those plans would mean the loss of millions of lives, the complete obliteration of most of the country and the slow destruction of the world's economy. The demise of humanity as it was now. A disaster of epic proportions. And we had to stop it.

I would have to risk this. The Jeep was already moving towards my hiding place, and at the second it rolled past I jumped, wrenching open the door on the passenger side and hauling ass inside. The driver looked at me for a nanosecond, then stepped on the accelerator. He had recognised me. I yanked the door closed as the jeep picked up speed, and the bushes began to blur together through the window.

I slid into the foot space in the passenger seat, trying to keep low and invisible to anyone outside of the Jeep. But the prickly feeling in my neck had not receded. Something was not right. I wracked my brain, trying to think of what had made my sixth sense nudge me.

The movement in the bushes.

Electrical impulses shot through my raced through my brain faster than the eye could see. Too small to be human? Certainly too small to be more than one person. I puzzled for a second. One person, moving away from us to where he must have known we would go.

A messenger.

_Ambush._

0 0 0

Hope you like the story so far! And don't worry; this one's already handwritten, so there'll be no waiting for ridiculously long periods of time for the next chapter. REVIEW!

Schaefy


	2. Chapter 2

_Ranger_

Adrenaline sent energy shooting through my veins as I quietly spoke to the man in the driver's seat. Due to the speed with which I had entered and hidden, I had failed to notice who it was. I looked up at him, and to my surprise, a familiar pair of brown eyes stared at me. It was Rico, one of my closest friends who served with the SEALs. They had just dropped in as reinforcements. Rico was Cuban as well, and I had grown up with him, Tank, Lester and Bobby.

But now was not the time for reminiscing.

"Rico." I muttered quietly, my voice strained and hoarse from days of disuse. His eyes flicked towards me as he coasted down the road, serious but expressive. We had been trained over and over to be on guard 24 hours a day, and to take any suggestion of danger seriously. As I looked into the dark eyes staring back at me, I saw a slight change in the expression. The slight crease in the brow, the hard line of his mouth, the hardness in his eyes. He knew something was wrong.

His knuckles whitened slightly as he gripped the steering wheel harder. I spoke quietly into the tense silence, my voice carefully control.

"Rico, turn on the engine. There'll be shots, an ambush ahead. Possibly grenade launchers. They may not know we're coming yet but they will soon. You got Kevlar?"

I watched as his face tensed, but remained impassive as I spoke. The imperceptible tightening of his jaw and the tension around his eyes the only signs he had heard me. He nodded curtly, and slowly breathed in. Once he turned on the engine they would know exactly where we were. We would literally be sitting targets. We had to get out _fast_.

I drew my Glock, making sure the clip was full and cocked it. I flicked off the safety. The mechanical click seemed to swell in the tense silence of the jeep, as Rico tugged the straps of his Kevlar vest tighter, and pulled out a sawn off shotgun from under his seat.

His dark eyes flickered toward me as he pulled his SEAL's hat further down his brow, subtly questioning me. Was I ready? I repressed a sigh as the seconds lingered. Was I ready for this? Could anyone be ready for this? To go willingly to their deaths? But there was no fear in my heart. I had trained for this moment for years. I knew it would come. It had nearly hit me dozens of times already. My only concern was Rico. We had grown up together since birth and our mothers had been close friends, and their mothers before them. Our families were woven so tightly together that it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. I wasn't sure I could continue this pointless mission without his support. And I knew if he didn't make it, I would have to be the one to tell his mother. And I couldn't bear that. I just couldn't.

But as soon as these thoughts filed my head, I forced them back. The army training kicked in. These were not productive emotions. Death was staring us in the face; I had cheated him many times before. And I must do it again. It wasn't my time yet, not when there was so much left to live for. And I wanted to see this mission through.

I locked eyes with Rico, his black ones locking my gaze with his.

The trees rustled.

The monkeys chattered.

The world revolved.

And I nodded.

I was ready.

0 0 0

Rico took a deep breath...

And turned on the engine.

His foot slammed on the accelerator and the Jeep jumped forward, as the burst of gunfire rent the air. I braced my feet against the seat in front of me as I say the bullets hit the window of the door next to me. Fine spider web cracked fanned out over the bulletproof glass from the impact, but thankfully it held as more bullets shot through the thin metal of the door before hitting the solid lead inside. I head the glass of the other windows cracking one by one, a projectile rocket forcing the Jeep to rock violently and swerve on the tiny dirt road. I felt glass shower down on my head as more bullets hit the window above me, finally forcing themselves through the reinforced glass. Rico ducked as they slammed into the interior around him. A white hot bullet skimmed his back as he hugged himself to his knees, and he let out a roar of pain as we sped past the first wave of attackers.

Rico had blood saturating his already sweat soaked shirt as he peeked above the wheel for more attackers, grunting in pain as the now exposed muscles of his wound screamed in protest. Moving quickly, I opened the rear door to check how many insurgents there were when something behind us caught my eye. A second later I pulled myself back into the Jeep at the last moment as the back windscreen exploded with the force of the bullets that were flashing through it.

A second Jeep was racing along the dirt behind us, crashing through the potholes Rico had nimbly avoided, shaking and jerking dangerously. But it was the figure hanging out of the window with an Uzi that had my eye. His whole torso was hanging out of the window, balancing precariously on the door, the black depths of his gun barrel aimed straight at us.

With an evil smile he let rip a spray of bullets straight at us, one grazing my cheek as I pulled myself further into the cheek. I could hear his almost maniacal laughter as I tasted blood in my mouth. Carefully, I took a few shots with my Glock pointed at him. No such luck. More bullets were flying towards us now, coming dangerously close to the tires of our Jeep. That would put a definite crimp in our plans. This guy was becoming a real pain in the ass. Quickly, I lay myself on my side facing the Jeep behind us, and took aim at the guy through the open door. But just when I was about the pull the trigger I saw his face grow pale, instantly. A low hanging branch caught him straight in the chest, ripping him comically from the car with a scream of pain, arms and legs flailing at odd angles.

I blinked in surprise as his body crumpled on the ground and became engulfed by the dust cloud following the second Jeep. Not quite what I expected.

Then another man stuck his head out the window. I ducked again as bullets flew everywhere, my heart pumping.

We really had to lose this Jeep. _Now._

0 0 0

Remember, REVIEW!

Schaefy


	3. Chapter 3

_Ranger_

The wind whipped my eyes mercilessly before I pulled my head back into the Jeep, a trail of blood trickling down my cheek. Another burst of gunfire announced the presence of a second Jeep behind the first, careening across the dirt road wildly.

Shit. I could almost hear Rico saying it in his mind. We were 40km from camp and we had to lose these guys before we got any closer, lest they figure out where our base was. Swiping the blood from my cheek onto my sleeve as I gritted my teeth against the pain, I looked questioningly at Rico. His face was paler than usual and I could see sweat beading on his forehead as he tried to keep his damaged back still. Grimacing at me, he nodded. He could keep going.

I pushed the door open next to me, just enough to be able to extend my gun towards the first Jeep as it struggled to keep up with us. The potholes and ruts on the road were bouncing us around everywhere and making sighting the gun. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I tried desperately to get a decent aim at the Jeep.

"Thirty kilometres." Rico said, his voice strained with the effort of speaking through the pain.

Shit. Shit...

Adrenaline burnt a path through my veins tightening my focus and I stared down the sight of my gun as another burst of fire flashed around us. We couldn't afford this, not now, especially not now. It was time to act. Leaning out again, the wind whipping the door against my head and shoulders, I carefully took aim. And fired twice. Immediately the front right hand tire burst as I hit it and the Jeep careened off the road as the driver slumped from the second bullet which had hit him squarely in the chest.

I pulled back inside the jeep quickly checking the clip in my gun. Empty. And I had no spare magazines left. Briefly closing my eyes for a second I clenched my jaw in frustrated. Could this get any more fucked up?

Then I heard Rico's voice, weaker than before. "Fifteen kilometres. You got ammo?"

I shook my head, clenching my fist around the useless gun, wishing I could throw it at something. He handed me the sawn-off, his face twisting with pain at the movement of his back.

"There's one chambered. That's it."

I nodded, cocking the mechanism as we heard a 'BOOM' behind us. The rear end of the jeep was lifted and propelled a few metres at the force of the explosion, crashing down to the road and veering as it landed. The last of the windows were blown now, and I looked back at the road where we had been. A huge crater had been formed from the grenade that had landed far too close for comfort, and I watched as the other Jeep swerved around it, tires skidding as it released another burst of gunfire from the driver's side. I could see a guard with hard, glinting eyes hanging out the passenger window, holding a grenade launcher. He raised it, staring straight into my eyes as his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. And fired.

Fuck.

The explosion was even closer this time, and the wave of energy smashed me into the space beneath the passenger seat. I left my hand a second to long on the edge of the door frame, and saw the door crush it with a yell of pain. Shoving the door off I pulled my mangled fingers from the frame, cradling them as I fought to control myself. Every bone in my hand was shattered. I coughed, choking for breath as I clutched at my ruined hand, cradling it close to my chest as my mouth opened in a silent yell of agony.

"Ranger!" I could vaguely hear Rico speaking, too focused on trying to regain power over myself. "Ten kilometres. If you're going to do it, do it now!" I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath. Ignore it.

Ignore it.

Ignore it.

Focus on your mission, I thought, focus on the situation. Forget the pain. Pain is distracting.

Giving myself a mental shake I pick up the gun in my other hand, glad I had cocked it before, as I certainly wouldn't be able to now. Kicking the door open I looked out at the guard hanging out the window as he clicked the last grenade into place, ready to fire again. I took careful aim, breathing steady.

"Nine kilometres." Said Rico quietly. "If we're not there soon, they'll abandon camp. The sentries will have heard the gun fire."

My face hardened. I was _not_ going to be fucking left behind, and I certainly wasn't going to be the reason Rico was either. I relaxed into my zone, resting the barrel of the shotgun on the forearm of my damaged hand for balance.

"Better drive fast then." I said, and I was a little relieved to see Rico smile infinitesimally.

I stared at the guard as he prepared to fire, waiting for the right moment. If I was going to do what I was planning, I needed split second reflexes and a sure aim. It was a bit of a gamble given this was our last bullet and I wasn't sure I could do this even if I wasn't in a Jeep speeding along a bumpy road with a crushed hand, but there were few options. There were two people in the Jeep, so shooting one of them was pointless, and we had nothing else to work with.

As the milliseconds passed I seemed to become hyperaware, the adrenaline in my veins allowing me watch as if in slow motion as the guard hitched the launcher onto his shoulder. There was time for one last breath, one last prayer, one last heartbeat. Then his finger pulled the trigger, and I pulled mine.

The explosion of fire engulfed the other Jeep throwing it high into the air, flinging the guard out the window and sending him crashing onto the road where he lay lifeless, burnt and bleeding. The Jeep had flipped as it became airborne, landing upside down on the roof. The one shot I had fired, the last bullet, the last hope, had hit the grenade just as it left the barrel. Detonating it.

"Holy fuck..." Rico said, staring at the pile of twisted and burnt metal in the distance through his rear view mirror. He grinned at me full on now as I pulled myself into the passenger seat, relishing the ability to stretch my stiff limbs. "How'd you learn to shoot that way?"

I tipped the corners of my lips up in a half smile. "Practice."

Rico rolled his eyes, and rounded a bend until a clearing on the side of the road came into view. He slowed the Jeep and rolled it under the cover of a few trees and, getting out, pulled a cover of vines over it to completely shield it from view.

"It's on foot from here. The Jeep will be picked up in the next hour, but we have to haul ass. They'll be moving camp and we have to meet them before they leave."

I nodded as I walked around the side of the Jeep hauling my pack onto my shoulders, melting into the trees that surrounded us as Rico led the way. The trees moved in a slight breeze as bird shrieked loudly, flapping noisily away from its perch across the clearing. The air was humid enough for me to be still bathed in sweat, a droplet moving softly down the side of my hairline to the side of my jaw.

A few metres in I saw Rico heading towards a small palm, digging in the dirt for something. I cocked an eyebrow as after a minute he pulled out a dirty cloth bag, opening the drawstrings.

"For emergencies. We put it there after what happened with Roy." Roy had been one of those killed. The enemy had found him by chance at his drop point with no ammo. It hadn't been pretty.

Rico tossed me two extra cartridges for my Glock and stuck the spare at the small of his back, checking the magazine was full.

"Damn it, I've got to disable the Jeep. The buggers have figured out how to hotwire them."

He turned to cross the clearing, about to leave the safety of the trees.

I paused for a second, my eyes narrowing.

Something was off.

I had seen it. I had seen it, but I was missing it.

Barely a second trickled past as I stared around the clearing, trying to find the source of my anxiety.

Then I realised. The bird that had flown away. There was someone in the tree.

I raised my hands, about to motion to stay still. Rico had turned to look at me, his eyes as if he were about to ask me a question.

He didn't see the bullet which cracked through the air, hitting him square in the chest. He didn't see the second one either as it struck him in the abdomen. He looked down at the hole in his shirt as a dark stain blossomed, one hand rising to touch the blood. He looked up at me, swaying, slightly confused as if he couldn't understand what had happened.

Then he fell.

He hit the ground hard, doubling over and holding him arms around himself as he coughed, choking for air.

Rage filled me as I watched a man who could have been my brother dying. It was blind rage, dangerous, a controlled fury which seemed instead of disabling me, sharpened my focus and resolution. With one quick movement I had my gun in my hand, holding it loosely by my side, and I walked the few steps to the boundary of the trees. As I looked up, I only saw his eyes for a moment. Cold, hard, ruthless. Before I brought my Glock to face him, and fired. I barely heard as his body fell from its branch. I knew I had hit my target. I had eyes only for Rico.

Dropping my pack quickly beside him I pulled out the medical kit, ripping it open and grabbing packets of gauze and bandages. I looked into Rico's eyes for a moment, my hands slowing. His hand had found my forearm, and gripped it weakly as a faint smile graced his lips.

"Ranger..." He said quietly.

"No," I said. I didn't want to hear what he was going to say. He wasn't going to die, I wouldn't let that happen.

"Ranger, you know what will happen..."

I clenched my jaw, trying to contain my horror. This couldn't be happening, I couldn't let it. His breathing was shallow as I worked, deftly pressing wads of gauze to both wounds, trying to stop the blood that was already soaking through while sparing my damaged hand as much as possible. It trickled, warm and sluggish over my hands as I growled in frustration. I had to get this bleeding stopped if he had any chance at all. Without hesitating a moment I ripped off my shirt, tearing it from in half with my teeth and pressing each half to a wound and binding it there tightly with layers of bandages to try and stop the stain of red that was already seeping through. Rinsing the blood off my hands I tried to make sure Rico was comfortable enough and could breathe, and then got to my radio, flicking the power switch.

Nothing happened.

Swiftly, I removed the battery, replaced it, and tried again.

Silence.

FUCK. Frustration and desperation boiled up within me, as I threw the useless radio against a tree where it smashed, falling quietly to the ground. We were completely alone, in enemy territory and Rico needed medical help _yesterday_. Putting my face in my hands, I sighed. Hope was fading as fast as the light of the evening sun which dappled the ground around me. We had no means of transport to get us to camp, no communications and few weapons.

Clutching my hair with my good hand, I tried to keep it together.

What were we going to do?


	4. Chapter 4

_Ranger_

I could hear Rico's breath echoing around the dark trees, the sound of blood gurgling in his windpipe as he tried again and again to cough it out. I held his head as he strained to clear his lungs, blood and spit trickling out of his mouth as he fought to breathe. He collapsed back onto me, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Night was falling fast and the temperature was dropping enough for me to shiver in my wet clothes. I had bound and splinted my hand as best I could and was working on shutting out the pain so I could think clearly and logically, to get us out of this hell.

I could see Rico's eyes rolling in his head, his skin as pale as the moon that had come to shine its pale rays to the dark clearing. I pulled a needle from the med kit and gave him a shot of morphine, hoping that would give his body respite from the pain, enough to try and control its natural responses to the wounds. I sighed, my head pounding with exhaustion, eyes gritty. I had done what I could, but I knew it wasn't enough. Rico needed experts, surgery, drugs. All of which I didn't have. Popping some mild painkillers to help me think clearer, I gathered my pack together, ditching everything I could go without to lighten my load. The camp was about ten kilometres trekking from here. I would have to carry him. I pulled him into my arms, watching desperately as his head lolled unchecked. I couldn't let this happen. I just couldn't.

I remember very little of that night, my brain foggy and unfocussed from a mixture of pain, exhaustion and desperation. All I recall was stepping one foot in front of the other, like a machine. I couldn't feel the pain as my muscles screamed at me for rest. I couldn't feel the gentle drops of rain that cooled my face from the humidity. I couldn't really feel anything.

I walked for hours that night, lost in my goal with a single mindedness that had gotten me through my Ranger's days time and time again.

Step.

Step.

Step.

One foot in front of the other.

It continued on, maddeningly, unbearably repetitive. Sometimes it was a comfort, as if the world revolved around my being able to step forward, over and over and over. Other times I felt like I could scream with frustration. But I got through it. I don't know how.

The trek was by no means easy, often stretching over tall hills, crossing rivers and cliff faces. I traversed it all. I was in a sort of daze, half sleeping, half awake as I supported Rico's weight gingerly in my arms. I no longer felt the blood drawn by scratches caused by sharp rocks and tree branches. I didn't feel the bruises as I fell time and again. I always got up. I always kept going.

The morning sky was grey through the trees, just dawning when I stopped. I fell to my knees, barely able to support myself as I struggled to stand up again. My legs shook in protest and my muscles ached, burning like fire under my skin. My head swam as I tried to blink my way through the fog that seemed to be engulfing my brain. Lying Rico down on a bed of dead leaves, I buried my face in my hands, struggling desperately to stay awake and lucid. I had lost my sense of direction a long time ago. I was lost, exhausted and hopeless. I felt the grit of dirt against my skin as I rubbed my face, salty sweat covering my body. I knew I wasn't going to last much longer. Neither was Rico. The best I could hope was that someone would find our bodies eventually. Give us a military burial. Tell our families.

I swayed as I knelt. The world was spinning, ghostly trees pale with the faint morning light closing in on me. I didn't feel the pain as I hit the ground.

I didn't feel anything.


	5. Chapter 5

_Ranger_

I looked over at Steph, who had at some point raised her seat so she could curl against it and look at my face as I spoke. I sighed a little, memories flooding through me. Not just from that mission, but all the shitty situations being in the Rangers had landed me in. A gentle hand laid itself in mine in mute support. The edges of my mouth tipped up in her favourite half smile as I looked up at her.

"So?" She said, looking at me through her bright blue eyes, whose depths always seemed to pull the breath from my chest. "What happened? How did you escape?"

I chuckled. I guess in her eyes I was still her infallible superhero, no matter how much of a man I had shown myself to be in this story.

"Well, by that time it was morning, and the camp had most likely moved on. The next thing I remember..."

My body felt heavy. Like lead. I was so tired, so sleepy I couldn't even lift an eyelid. I was lying on something, voices around my, bodiless hands probing my body, endlessly pressing and disturbing me. 'Go away', I wanted to yell 'Can't you leave me in peace? I just want to sleep.." But I couldn't seem to formulate the words. The darkness weighed in on me, comforting, smothering my senses. Sound drifted to me and yet I didn't seem to hear.

Please.

Please. Quiet. I need quiet.

I breathed hard, mumbling, my head weaving from side to side. Hands grasped my bare shoulders, shaking me hard as my head pounded, the pressure in my skull seeming to shut everything else out. Muffled voices, calling to me. Oh, my head...

"Ranger? Ranger!" Distantly.

I couldn't hear them. I couldn't see them. I felt like screaming, my head full of fire, pounding angrily at each shake of my shoulders. My head, my head... I felt as if it were going to explode. The pain redoubled and suddenly I arched off the bed, my eyes snapping open as my voice choked in agony. Make it stop! Someone, make this end. I collapsed back onto whatever I was lying on, spent, yelling in pain. I felt hands all over me now, holding my arms, my legs, my chest down, trying to stay my writhing limbs. A sharp pain in my arm, loud, panicked voices. Then nothing.

I woke up the best part of two days later in a military hospital bed in Montreal. My eyes fluttered open, the white room blurred as I blinked against the light. The pain in my head had receded to a dull throb behind my temples, enough to let me try to wake up properly. I slowly took stock of where I was, what I could see. The room was shabby, but impeccably clean, a bank of machines standing next to my bed, beeping and spitting out printed pages of information on reams of paper. I saw the figure of a man standing guard through the crack in the door. Friendly uniform. Good. Next, self assessment. I pulled my left hand up to my throbbing head, wincing as it met a turban of thick bandages. Uh oh. That wasn't good. My right hand and forearm was bandaged to a splint. Hmm. I gently moved my fingers. Very painful, but at least they were all there.

I tipped my head back on the pillow, feeling drained from the effort. My whole body ached still, my mouth and throat burning and dry. I heard words outside my door and the guard stepped aside, and the leader of my unit walked in. Fox looked as though he had been to hell and back in the last few days since I had seen him. Deep shadows marred his face betraying sleepless nights, his eyes more lined, his features more hollowed. He looked like I felt.

Dropping into the only chair next to my bed he ran his hands through his hair, which looked as though he'd been doing that a lot lately.

"Ranger."

"Fox." He passed me the cup which lay next to me and I drank gratefully.

"Doctors say you had a close call back there. We almost lost you a couple of times. They've been working double shifts to monitor you so closely."

I moved my head slightly, unable to nod properly. I wasn't really surprised.

"You've got a few minor lacerations and some pretty severe bruising. You were dehydrated and dangerously underweight when you came in. How long?"

I turned my face away, unwilling to answer his question.

"Ranger." Sharply "How long were you giving away your food?"

There were boys out there, kids, who had wives and families. They were sick, trapped in the camp through the remoteness of our situation. We simply couldn't get them out of there. We were running low on supplies. I ate sparingly, trusting my body to use its protein stores for fuel. Those boys needed it more than I did.

Fox shook his head as if he knew what I was thinking, his eyes lined and tired.

"When you fell, you smashed your head against a rock. Caused severe head trauma, brain swelling was a problem for a while. But you pulled through. You didn't incur any internal bleeding which was a plus, but you'll have a nasty headache when the meds wear off.

"Your right had is completely crushed. They had to put a few screws and wiring in there to hold it together. They don't know whether you'll ever get full use of it again. The nerve damage was pretty extensive, but recovery stats are good." He said, his face carefully blank, observing my facial expression. My brow furrowed, infinitesimally. My work depended on my being able to use my hands, to shoot a gun. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to understand the magnitude of the magnitude of the consequences. Pain, a different kind of anguish, filled me.

"You can do this Ranger, if it's what you want. If you want to keep going in the unit, I know you can pull through it. The rehab will be a bitch, at least a couple of months, but if you put in the dedication you devote to your training, you'll be fine." I nodded. Averting my eyes. I wasn't sure I would be allowed to continue after this, that I wouldn't just be handed my discharge papers. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue.

"And Rico?"

I watched his eyes tighten, his fist clench. I had my answer.

I turned my head, looking out the small window to the grey sky, feeling the grief wash through me. Though I could hide what I felt on the outside, there were times, like this, when just feeling was all I could do. I stared out at the bleak clouds, silently watching as they gathered and darkened. I was silent, as was Fox, by my side. I was hollow, empty.

After all that.

After everything, all those kilometres, all those steps, all that effort.

He had died. I clenched my jaw, unexpected rage seething through me. How could he have not held on! Why hadn't he kept going? I closed my eyes, trying to control the anger and grief raging through me, consuming everything but the memory of his limp body in my arms. If I had only walked faster, moved quicker, gone farther! Maybe... well.

"You're not being fair to yourself Ranger. We got him to the hospital there, but he was too far gone. He had lost a lot of blood, he was in shock. There was nothing anybody could have done."

Silence. Pain.

"He woke for a while. He was asking for you." My head whipped round to face Fox, aching in protest. Fox pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to my good hand. It was covered in Fox's scrawl, smudged with dirt and damp.

"He asked me to write this for you. And to give you this." Fox held out something and I took it blindly, unfolding it slowly. Rico's Navy SEAL hat. I closed my eyes as a thousand memories threatened to shatter my control. He had been so proud the day he'd gotten the hat. He never took it off, even when he was on leave back home. It was faded and a little scuffed, but it was Rico. I turned my eyes to the letter, brief as it was, and read.

_Carlos,_

_I know you will make it through this, even though I won't. _

_You are strong. Don't let this kill you. You have to do this, for the family. Neither could stand for both of us to go. Please go to my mother. Help her through it. Tell her, and my sisters that I love them always. _

_Don't forget me, or where you came from. Don't make the same mistake I did. I paid for it with my life. I regret already the life I can't live now. Live it for me._

_Your Brother,_

_Rico_

Stephanie's wide eyes stared at me through the darkness, wrapped in awed silence.

"How did they find you?"

"I had almost made it to the camp. I was less than three hundred metres from the sentry. They found me a couple of hours later on the last scout of the area as they prepared to move on. We were rushed to the local hospital. Rico died not long after."

Silence filled the car as we watched the stars shining faintly in the sky.

"I left the army after that. I was handed an honourable discharge and spent the next year in physical rehab, working on my hand." I turned my wrist to show her the faint pearly white scars that stretched across my dark skin from the surgeries.

"Tank, Bobby and Lester followed soon after, and we started Rangeman. It was the easiest way to try and assimilate to civilian life again, to continue some of the work we had been doing before. Rico's hat stayed with me always, reminding me to watch my back. He told me not to repeat his mistake, and I intended not to."

I felt her arms reach around my shoulders, pulling me close. I breathed in the scent of her hair as she whispered softly in my ear.

"Sounds like he would be proud of you now, Ranger." I pulled her closer to me, feeling her mould into me so close I could feel her heart beating against mine. Sometimes it scared me how much I really needed her. Her unquestioning, undying support and trust. Whether I deserved it or not, she just seemed to give me something far more valuable than anything I could ever give her.

Hope.


End file.
